Obsession
by Tamashi.no.Koe
Summary: Sanae is teased about her obsession with Tsubasa. She finds a way to retaliate.


**Author's Note:** This is a standalone one shot, but those who know the basic storyline of Road To Dream (old or new version) might find it a little bit more amusing. To them, I have but this to say: I feel awful about this because I'll be embarrassing my own OC horribly, but hey, the idea was too good to ignore.

**OBSESSION**

* * *

"Stop obsessing over Tsubasa."

Startled, Sanae's eyes shot open and she rounded on the speaker, blushing. "I'm _not_ obsessing!" In a reflexive attempt to conceal her mortification, she leaned in once more to focus on the photo album on her lap, allowing her short brown hair to swing forwards and veil her red cheeks.

"Sure fooled me," Suzuki Mikomi said plaintively with no apparent interest, lazily dribbling a soccer ball. With a steady rhythm she raised one leg after another, bouncing the ball on her knees in a sort of on-the-spot march, arms limp at her sides. "Why is it then that you're memorizing every picture with him in it and skipping over the rest?"

Unable to come up with a suitable retort, Sanae squirmed. "Is it that obvious?" she asked awkwardly, in the end.

"Yes."

_You'd think after two years of living in France all the romance and sensitivity would have rubbed off on her a least a little_. But aside from some dwindling—and probably absurdly unrealistic—hopes, Sanae had long since given up trying to make her friend be nice. Better to just get out of Mikomi what the girl was willing to give.

"Is there any way I can…you know, tone it down?" The relentless teasing had somewhat gotten to her over the years, when everyone from her friends to her school's janitors knew of her…admiration…for Nankatsu's soccer prodigy. If there was some way she could hide it from even Mikomi's dispassionately observant eyes, life would be significantly more bearable.

"There is. But I don't think I'll tell you. Embarrassing you is too much fun."

Sanae could have screamed. Evidently, even cool analysis was only given when it could ultimately be used to someone else's disadvantage. Mikomi really did live for nothing but her own amusement. The sting of humiliation sharp in her chest, Sanae decided it was better to shut up and keep her head down until Mikomi's mean streak ended. Not that it ever did.

The mocking voice pressed on. "Seriously, why do you find those things so fascinating? You have most of the same ones, too. I mean, you took them _for_ me." Her tone was slightly accusatory, as though she found the idea taking pictures and giving them to someone else totally ridiculous.

Affronted—_why_ were her friendly gestures always rebuffed and made fun of?—Sanae lost her patience and snapped, "Because they're the only memoirs we'll ever have of our childhood, that's why. But it's not like you ever _had_ a childhood, since you're always busy being cynical. Is that why you're so unappreciative?" So she was being harsh. She didn't care. Certain people deserved it.

Perhaps Mikomi sensed that she had crossed the line at last. Sighing, she caught her ball and sat down beside the Sanae on a bench in the Nakazawa garden. Sanae ignored her, still feeling distinctly ruffled.

"I only want to know why you gave them to _me_," Mikomi grumbled defensively after a moment of silence. "Seeing as _I have no childhood _and therefore would have no use for memoirs. Besides, that book's heavy and you know my family moves around a lot."

Even amid her temporary hostility, Sanae still managed to be exasperated. _Why must she _always_ be so practical?_ Looking down, she gazed at the snapshots of the original Nankatsu FC team, complete with Tsubasa, Taro, Genzo and Ishizaki. Those were times worth taking pictures of, she insisted firmly. Even if she didn't remember it now, Mikomi must have felt at least a little happy when she had stood alongside Sanae and the boys, a soccer ball at her feet. "I had to make sure you wouldn't forget," the ex-cheerleader said.

Mikomi made no reply at first, but after a while she suggested carelessly, "We can swap some, if you like. You can take all the ones with Tsubasa in them."

Sanae considered getting angry at the other's nonchalant attitude towards giving away something this important so easily, but the chance was too good to pass up. "Thanks," she said happily, and began extracting out her favorites from Mikomi's collection. Most of them looked like they hadn't been touched since Sanae had slotted them in herself. Others showed more signs of wear.

"You can get the ones you like from my album too, in exchange," she reminded her friend, retrieving her own album and pressing it into Mikomi's hands. Mikomi, though, seemed to have completely lost interest in the photos. Instead, she was staring at a lone soccer ball situated underneath their bench, and smirking.

"What?" Sanae ventured warily.

Mikomi snorted. "What do you do to that thing, polish it every day?" She nodded towards Sanae's ball.

Obviously, Sanae wasn't going to just say yes.

Even if she _did_ polish it every day.

What could she say? It was a present from Tsubasa.

The best policy, she concluded, was just to ignore Mikomi. Selecting another pristine picture, she carefully slipped it out of its socket. It was a group photo of the Japanese Team, taken just before the team had set off for Europe. Sanae smiled. Tsubasa's dream of going international had indeed begun at that moment.

Tsubasa himself stood out at once; he wasn't wearing the standard white shirt and red tie like the others. He was clutching the blue and white official uniform, emblazoned with a large number '10', an exhilarated laugh frozen permanently on his face.

To the left stood Hyuuga Kojiroh, arms folded across his chest, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and his tie loosened messily around his dark neck. To the right, Ishizaki Ryo. Sanae grimaced. The boy looked more like a ten year old on holiday than a soccer player representing Japan. Around them, behind them, were Nitta, Jito, Ken, Matsuyama, Misugi… The members of the Japanese U-16 Team.

As her eyes continued to scan the photo, Sanae frowned. There as something wrong with this picture; there seemed to be a few spots that were left empty, for some reason. It took her a few moments to figure out that two people were missing, and a few more minutes more to identify them. Most noticeable was the absence of Genzo's bright red cap; he had been in Germany then, and had only met up with the others at a later time.

Well, Tsubasa was there, and looking pretty good. Sanae delicately placed the photo with the rest of her own. "I sent you this one, remember, Mikomi? You almost missed the letter; your family moved the next day."

"Yeah, close one." Mikomi mustered up just enough energy to look mildly puzzled. "How come you were able to take that?"

Sanae turned the page to another eight pictures. "I went to see them off," she said absently. "Tsubasa said he was going to go and I offered to go with him since he looked kind of down about it…" Her eyes flew open, and she looked up with a jerk.

Right on cue, Mikomi smirked again. "Tsubasa, Tsubasa. Don't you _ever_ think of_ anything_ else?"

Turning a brilliant red, Sanae hurriedly dropped her gaze to the photos. She took out another, one of the Golden Duo after Nankatsu had just won the National Elementary Championship. It was frayed slightly at one edge and a corner was creased. "You choose what you want to swap these with," she insisted, nudging her album lying idly in Mikomi's lap, hoping that it would occupy the girl for a while.

The other simply passed it back to her. "Just take the ones you want. It's not like I actually look at them, unlike you."

"Why not? That's what they're_ for_—"

Mikomi's lips pursed in displeasure as she cut Sanae off with sudden ferocity. "Unlike you, my life doesn't revolve around some guy who's in another freakin' _country_," she growled_._ "I do _not_ want to let someone else, much less a _guy_, dictate my life, nor do I feel the need to see anyone's face every day. What's the good of staring at a bunch of_ pictures_ and thinking about someone all the time when he's doing something more important and you could be doing something more important? It's just not—"

"I'll choose for you, then," Sanae said hurriedly, watching Mikomi with mounting skepticism, made wary by the latter's to all appearances unprovoked aggression and escalation in abrasiveness. She saw Mikomi positively seethe as she clenched her teeth, glaring at the photo in Sanae's hand.

The one of the Golden Duo.

Sanae looked at it too, and replayed Mikomi's heated speech in her mind. Something clicked. She knew exactly which pictures to give Mikomi now. Picking out the ones from their late elementary years and late middle school years, she gave a knowing smirk of her own as she observed Mikomi out of the corner of her eye, watching as the girl followed each selected photo, finally dropping her soccer ball from her lap.

"Well, I think that's all. Thanks again, Mikomi." Finally, Sanae closed both books.

"All right. I'll be going home then." Taking hers readily, Mikomi waved and prepared to depart.

Sanae shook her head. Struck by a sudden idea, she reopened her album and turned to the page holding the photo taken before the U-16 Championship. The one with two people missing. "Mikomi. What's wrong with this picture?"

Doubling back, the girl gave the photo a quick glance. "Misaki's not in it." Again, she waved and tried to leave. Sanae crowed triumphantly inside. "I guess you won't want it, then," she said sweetly. Mikomi turned and gave the former a dull look. "I don't really want _any_ of these pictures, just so that you know."

"You'll want the ones I gave you, though," Sanae promised innocently. "There's this one of Taro just before he left for France, one he took when he came back to Nankatsu… Oh, and that one from when we he and the rest of the soccer team went swimming together. He looks really nice in his trunks—"

Mikomi's album fell to the ground with a loud thump. It flew open, and as luck would have it, settled on the page displaying the aforementioned picture. As if she had been electrified, Mikomi leapt backwards, recoiling at the sight of it. She made a slight choking noise and her pale cheeks glowed a fiery red, but _she didn't look away_.

Sanae smiled. "You don't have to say thank you."

In the end, it was she who ended up walking away, a victorious grin on her face.


End file.
